


Minds Unlike My Own

by Alyssa_bird



Series: Yellow Summers Series [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Kid!Lock, Kidlock, M/M, Moonrise Kingdom Crossover, Sherlock AU, sherlock crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 01:03:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1490974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyssa_bird/pseuds/Alyssa_bird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twelve year old John and Sherlock send Constable Lestrade and the Holmes' on a wild goose chase when they run away together in the summer of 1965.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minds Unlike My Own

**Author's Note:**

> Kid!Lock based on the movie "Moonrise Kingdom"

Summer, 1965

A large, red, two-story house sits in the midst of the vast countryside during the hottest summer of the decade. Through the highest window, a curly haired boy can be seen looking out of the window with a pair of binoculars. From there he can properly see the light-house, the ocean, and the meadow with tall grass that his mother had forbidden him from venturing into. 

He's watching, he's waiting. 

"He'll come," he tells himself. "He's coming."  
_____

Miles and miles away, Mike Stamford, leader of the Sand Crab Scouts, discovers that one of his scouts is missing. 

"Where's Watson?" He asks the other scouts. 

The only reply he receives are looks of puzzlement on the boys' faces.

"John Watson? Anyone seen John Watson?" 

A freckled boy standing in the back pips up, "I think he's still in his tent, sir." 

They find Watson's tent empty, except for a note addressed to Scout Master Stamford atop his neatly done bunk.

'Dear Scout Master Stamford,  
I'm sorry to say, but I must resign in my position as a Sand Crab Scout.  
I'm sure the other Scouts will be okay with this because I don't think they  
like me very much anyways. Do not feel bad, this is not your fault.  
John Watson 8/19/1965'

"Jiminy Cricket," Says a dumbfounded Stamford. "He's flown the coop!"  
_____

Sherlock continues to wait dutifully at the window. The binoculars locked onto the meadow of tall, dry grass. Fourteen minutes past, still no sign. He's late. Nervous sweat begins to slide down his neck when finally a small hand pops up and begins to wave a yellow handkerchief back and forth six times. 

The signal! 

Sherlock jumps off the window sill and quickly gathers a brown leather suit case, a satchel, and a canteen full of water.

His mother is too busy smoking a cigarette out the bathroom window, his father is too busy with work, and his brother is too busy being a stupid git. His escape is easy and goes unnoticed. 

Sherlock finds the yellow-haired boy standing in the middle of the meadow. He's wearing his scout uniform and has a large canvas backpack. Sherlock sets his suit case down. 

"Were you followed?" Asks John.

Sherlock looks back at the house and shrugs. "I doubt it." 

They stare at one another.  
_____

Summer, 1964. One Year Earlier. 

John is sitting in a pew with the other Sand Crabs at St. Bartholomew's Church, they are there to watch the annual Christmas pageant. He watches a woman and a bearded man sitting in a barn together. Three other men are there too, they're giving the couple gifts. A baby cries in the manger. John doesn't understand. He fidgets in his seat, he can't concentrate with The Man staring at him. Above the scene playing before the crowd is a large cross and on that cross is a man nailed to it by his hands and feet. Blood is dripping from where the nails were driven into the man's skin, his face is one of complete anguish. It's seems like the crucified man is staring straight at John. It scares him, he doesn't understand. 

He finds himself backstage, walking past kids his age running around dressed like cows, donkeys, and angels. He stops as he walks by a room with the door open, there is a chaos of kids getting into costume. No one notices him enter, all except one boy. The boy who's too skinny and much taller than the other boys, the boy with the funny hair. The boy who knows everyone's secrets. 

"You don't belong here." Says the taller boy. 

"I know I don't. Why are you wearing a dress?"John says nodding at the boy's costume.

"It's not a dress. I'm an angel in the pageant." 

"What's your name?"

"Sherlock Holmes, yours?"

"John Watson. What happened to your hand?"

Sherlock shyly hides the hand covered in a bandage behind his back. "I punched another boy in the face, and then I punched the mirror."

"Why did you do that?" John asks.

"I don't know. Sometimes I lose my temper and do bad things." 

An elderly woman in a purple dress enters the room. "Okay, angels! Report to stage left now!" She spots John. "Dear, who are you? You're not supposed to be in here! Go back to your seat!" 

John gives Sherlock one last look before scurrying out of the room, little Molly Hooper skips up to Sherlock.

"He likes you." She says with a smile.

When the pageant is over, Stamford is gathering all the scouts onto the bus, when John feels a poke in his shoulder. He turns to see a small, ginger-haired girl. She has a note clutched in her hand. 

"Are you John Watson?" She chirps.

"Yeah,"

"This is for you." She hands him the note and giggles as she skips away. 

John waits until he in his seat and the bus has started to lurch forward to open his note. He reads the untidy scrawl silently to himself.

'Write to me. Sherlock Holmes. 221b Baker Road, Penzance.'  
_____

Back to the meadow. Reunited after a year of communicating through only letters and pictures. 

"We should probably hike a third of the trail today since you're not an experienced hiker and you're wearing Sunday school shoes," John sets down his bag and pulls out a map, he indicates to a point on it. "I think we should be at least here by dusk. Is that alright?"

"Sure," 

"Alright, let's get on our way."  
_____

On the dock that over looks the ocean of Penzance, Constable Lestrade gets a radio signal. He puts out his cigarette as he picks up the speaker. 

"Constable Lestrade, over."

"Yes, Constable Lestrade. This is Scout Master Stamford from Ivanhoe camp, we seem to have an escaped Sand Crab Scout, over." 

"Escaped? Over."

"John Watson has seemed to have escaped with ten days worth of rations, camping equipment and a tent. Over"

"Right, how long has the boy been missing? Over."

"Hard to say. Over."

"We'll have to notify his parents right away. You lot stay put, we'll be over at the camp shortly. Over."  
_____

A phone rings at a small, yellow house.

"Hello?"

"This is Constable Lestrade."

"Ah, yes. We just received your message regarding John. This puts me and the wife in an uncomfortable position but seeing as this isn't the first time John has done something like this we've decided to not invite John back to our residence."

"Excuse me?"

"It's just not fair to the other kids! Look, now don't get me wrong, the boy is a good kid with a good heart but...he's emotionally disturbed, you see?"

"....Am I talking to John Watson's father?"

"What? Of course not, we're the Radcliffes! John's parents passed away years ago. We're John's foster parents."

"You're telling me that Watson is an orphan?"

"Precisely,"

"Sir, you're telling me this boy is an orphan! If you're not inviting him back, well, what am I supposed to do with him?!" 

"Oh, don't you fret about that. Social Services will take of it, I'm sure. I do hope you find John soon. Good day, Constable."

Click.  
_____

Constable Lestrade makes his way around the small town going door to door in search of anybody who had seen the Watson boy. He is unsuccessful until he knocks upon the door of a big, red house on the edge of town. The door opens and a lovely woman with short blond hair emerges. 

"What seems to be the problem, Constable?" She asks. She smells of smoke masked by Chanel perfume.

"Have you seen this boy by any chance?" Constable Lestrade holds up a picture of John, he's standing in front of a lake holding a fishing rod, he's in his Sand Crab uniform. 

"Not at all, is he a runaway?" She cocks her head, concern in her eyes.

"That seems to be the case, yes."

"Who's at the door, darling?" A man steps from behind the door, he's tall and wearing a dark, expensive looking suit. He's Mr. Holmes, the best lawyer in town.

"It's the Constable! He says a boy has run away around here!"

"Hello, Mr. Holmes. I've just shown your wife this picture, have you seen the boy? He's twelve years old." He lifts the picture again. Mr. Holmes squints at the photo before shaking his head. 

"Haven't seen him before in my life, sorry."

Mrs. Holmes pips up, "Oh, I do hope they find him! It just upsets me how people these days are not watching their children close enough!"

"Mother," a voice says loudly from inside the house. The adults all look to see Mycroft, the eldest Holmes boy, standing at the foot of the stairs.

"Sherlock left this note on my beside table. How fortunate that the police are already here!"

Mrs. Holmes walks over to retrieve the note from Mycroft, she reads the letter aloud:

"Dear Mycroft, I have taken your microscope and I suppose you shall never see it again due to the fact that I am running away. Don't tell mum (or dad). Best wishes, Sherlock."

Mrs. Holmes drops the note and looks at her husband, her mouth forming an 'O' shape.  
_____

John and Sherlock walk up steep trails in the woods, jump onto rocks, and slowly tread their way across small streams. Sherlock wipes the sweat from his brow and takes a drink from his canteen. 

"You better ration that water," John warns. "But don't worry, if you run out, I've been told that if you grab a pebble from a stream and suck on it, it'll quench your thirst." 

Sherlock nods his head.

"Where exactly are we going to, again?" Sherlock asks.

"A long time ago my mother took me to this cove just a few miles north. It's right on the beach and totally secluded. That's the perfect place for us."

"Is the beach nice?" 

"You've never been?" John turns to look at Sherlock, who looks mildly ashamed.

"My parents are busy a lot, that don't have much time to take me. They're both lawyers," Sherlock says slowly, he watches his feet as he steps onto the rocks to make sure he doesn't slip into mud. "But I don't want to talk about it."

"Alright. Make sure you watch me, Sherlock. A person can get lost real easy out here."

Sherlock remains silent as he follows the form of John in his yellow uniform.

He thinks to himself that he could never get lost as long as he was with John.  
_____

Mr. Holmes and Constable Lestrade are about to get into the Constable's car when Mrs. Holmes runs out, holding a small, green box. 

"He's got a pen pal! Sherlock has been sending letters back and forth with another boy! They both planned this! They've run away together! It's all very intimate!"

The men walk over and pick out items from the box. There's nothing in there except for letters all mailed to Sherlock and clippings from newspapers about murders and missing people.

"They're just letters and some pictures. One of them is very disturbing, see?'

She holds up a picture.

Mr. Holmes looks repulsed, "What're those in that man's eyes?"

"Maggots, I believe." 

Lestrade picks up a letter, "These letters are all from John Watson! That's the boy I'm looking for!"

"Why would they run away? I don't understand, I've never even heard Sherlock mention a John before!" Mr. Holmes exclaims.

The sun is beginning to set and it casts a beautiful, yellow haze over the perplexed adults.  
_____

'Dear Sherlock,  
I enjoyed your performance in the Christmas pageant, I think you have the best voice I have ever heard...'  
_____

'Dear John,  
Thank you very much, I'm glad you enjoyed me making a fool of myself on stage. I didn't want to do the pageant but Mummy made me. Luckily, I'm not an angel in the show anymore because I yelled at Mrs. Hudson, after that I was demoted to a donkey...'  
_____

'Dear Sherlock,  
I try to do what my foster parents tell me and make friends with the other boys but I don't think they like me very much. I think it's my personality, they don't like the things I say...'  
_____

'Dear John,  
I'm in trouble because I threw a rock through the window - again. Mummy still has glass in her hair...'  
_____

'Dear Sherlock,  
I got expelled from school because I attacked a boy named Anderson today because he called me "mental", I don't like it when they call me names...'  
_____

'Dear John,  
Thank you for sending me those newspaper clippings about the Jacoby murder. I think murder is interesting, my mum says that worries her. A lot. It's okay to think about your parents, you should think about your parents all the time even if it makes you sad..'  
_____

'Dear Sherlock,  
I have a plan...'

_____

'Dear John,  
My answer is yes. Where? When?'

_____

The sun had already set when John and Sherlock make camp for the night. Sherlock sits on a tree stump and watches John secure their tent. He pokes idly at the fire with twig (which John had also made). 

"You know a lot about camping, don't you?" Sherlock asks.

"Yeah, Scout Master Stamford taught me a lot. What kinda stuff did you bring? We should make an inventory." John asks, sitting next to Sherlock, careful not to rest his thigh against Sherlock's. 

Sherlock reaches over and drags his suit case closer, the case opens with two clicks as he lifts the top. 

"I've brought a few of my science books, my binoculars, my toothbrush, and my brother's microscope." 

John nods, he picks up a particularly large book from inside the case.

"Vital Facts about the Ecosystems of Marshes, Swamps, and the Great Outdoors." John reads aloud.

Sherlock shrugs, "I figured that one would come in handy."

John opens the cover and peers inside, his eyebrows rise.

"This stamp says this book is from the library, did you steal it?" John asks, his innocent, blue eyes wide.

"All of these are from the library actually," Sherlock says nonchalantly. "I plan on returning them one day."

"Why'd you steal all of these? I mean, you're not poor..." 

"I don't know...at first I did it just see if I could get away with it. I only do it when I'm bored, it makes everything a little more interesting, I guess. Sometimes it just puts me in a better mood." Sherlock averts his eyes away from John. He looks up to the stars, he remembers the astronomy book he brought, he thinks John would like it. 

"Stealing puts you in a better mood?" John asks, eyebrows raised.

"I think there's something wrong with me. Everyone thinks so too," Sherlock pulls out a folded pamphlet from his satchel. "I found this in my mother's drawer." 

John takes it from Sherlock's outstretched hand, the title is in large, red print: 'HOW TO DEAL WITH A VERY TROUBLED ADOLESCENT'

John looks from the pamphlet to Sherlock, who is watching him tentatively. John can't fight the smile that creeps on his face, or the laughter bubbling from his mouth. Sherlock looks offended and slams his case closed, he stands up and marches toward the tent. He lifts the flap and throws himself in, John gets up and follows him in.

"Get out! It's not funny!" Cries Sherlock, tears falling from the corners of his eyes, he brushes them away angrily.

"I'm sorry. I didn't meant to laugh. I don't think there's anything wrong with you." John removes the handkerchief from around his neck and hands it to Sherlock, he takes it and wipes the tears from his face. 

"They call me a freak." Sherlock whispers.

"You're not a freak. They just don't understand you." John puts a hand on Sherlock's shoulder.

"Do you understand me?" Sherlock looks up into John's eyes.

John smiles, "Not quite but I'd sure like to try."

Sherlock's face lights up significantly, he hands back the handkerchief. "Thank you," 

_____

The two boys lay next to the fire while Sherlock reads aloud from his astronomy book. He stops every once in a while to make sure John is still listening, John assures him he is, and Sherlock continues.


End file.
